The Story of Otsuru
by Testorshia
Summary: I always wondered what was going on in the mind of Otsuru during those final days...


The Story of Otsuru

Gonna tell you about this girl I knew/A fair mama-san by the name Otsuru….

The pain had subsided; that's how she knew she was dying. That terrible, piercing pain through her chest, through her body had subsided just as quickly as it started. She watched in amazement as the blood, her blood, ran in rivers over her opened white silk kimono, puddling below her dangling feet. Her feet were numb…now her ankles…His eyes, such sad eyes, met hers and it all flashed through her mind…

* * *

_Day One_

He always had such an old, sad face, Afro. Not to say he wasn't handsome; young Otsuru heard the way the other girls sighed after him and gave her jealous eyes every time he so much as called to her. It was the mystery, she decided then, that made him so irresistible to the older girls. He never said much, only what was necessary. He wasn't too keen on spending time with everyone, just a small ragtag group of the orphans at the Master's dojo. She was always tagging along though, always following around Afro and her big brothers.

She smiled at the memory as she hung her wet clothes on the clothesline. The days were longer back then, warmer too. Not a care in the world she'd had as a child under Master's watchful eye. Gino and the others had treated her like the baby sister; she was well watched and taken care of. _Loved,_ she thought, pinning the last of her garments in the mid-day breeze. She'd felt loved in her younger days, even from the young Afro samurai.

Funny; even back then she'd decidedly put him in his own category. Maybe it was just the way he spoke, always slowly with a tough and gruff rumble. Maybe it was his skin, which was as smooth and brown as freshly turned and patted earth. Or maybe, just maybe, it was his hair. Ah, such hair he had, even then. A large mass of green-tinted afro. Ironic, poignant, and… _Sexy, _she thought to herself, walking to the river side to sit.

The grass was lush between her toes, her kimono opened to expose a flat, pale stomach and shapely creamy thighs in denim short-shorts. The water tripped and fell over rocks, soothing her mind of the task at hand. It didn't matter anymore; her childhood had been forever ruined at the stroke of midnight on one faithless night. She wasn't Otsuru anymore; her family who'd known her by that name were all dead anyway. No, now she was Okiku, the dream reader. And soon enough, her mission would be upon her.

_

* * *

_

_Day Two_

Blue and red ribbons were lifted lightly in the breeze as she shadow sparred. The mission was to nick only the blue wrapped bamboo while cutting the red and leaving the rest. Her strikes were precise and even, the hollow sound of fallen bamboo sounding musically in her ears. The sword was swift, and silent. Her breathing and the sound of the river comforted her after her morning task was done until…

Gasping. She heard gasping. Her posture stiffened as she started towards the riverbank. _He was supposed to be here yesterday…_she thought, lodging her blade into the earth as she came to a shrouded, soaked figure lying across the grass. A tall, thick slick of green-tinted hair spread across the bank like waves of oil. Rough, scarred brown hands held tight to a samurai sword…_a Hanzo_… and a beaten up old cloth. _The Number Two Samurai…_

She could tell by his gnarled fingers that his hand was broken, and as he tilted his head for more air, so was his nose. Cuts and bruises painted the landscape of what she could see of his body. He'd need salve and bandages…and time. She smiled, grabbing his wrists and pulling him ashore. Kneeling and taking all of his weight onto her shoulders and hips, she walked him into the house.

Laying him on her plush down mat, she began the tedium that was taking care of an injured body, while her mind siphoned and linked with his…

_It was warm again, like those days long ago as a child. She watched from his eyes, heard his thoughts…_

_Gino and the boys were always late to wake; Afro was up before the dawn, his sword in hand practicing by the well in the early morning. He was faster, stronger, more resilient than the others. He knew it, and most of them knew it too. After his practice he would sneak into bed for a small rest before the rest of the morning began. Training…gathering grains and berries…harvesting fruit…selling…training…training…training…sleeping._

She disengaged, eyeing her handiwork with the bandages. They'd hold for the day, but she'd have to change them tomorrow. For now though, she'd lie next to him while he slept…_Not for my own comfort, of course_, she assured herself, snuggling close but not too close to the injured samurai. He looked so handsome…so still and supple. She ran light fingertips along his sturdy brow, down his now slightly crooked nose to his full lips. Her heart fluttered as his lips parted as he exhaled, his warm breath tickling her palm. Something yielded slightly in her as she watched him sleep; her hand found solace in his mass of black hair, stroking his head while engaging again in his memories…The mission had started after all, and she could not let her clan, her new family down.

_

* * *

_

Day Three

She hadn't wanted this life, not necessarily. She just wanted a place to belong and to repay her debt of life to The Empty Se7en Clan. They had raised her, after all. Healed her and took her under their collective wing after the midnight…She shook her thoughts as she served the samurai his tea and fish. He was actually healing up faster than she anticipated. His hand shakily grasped his cup before she wrapped hers gingerly around his own, tilting it to his lips. At this rate he'd be gone within a week…she had to work faster.

"Don't try too much at once, Mighty Samurai," she said softly, releasing him once he'd gotten the hang of it on his own. "You must heal before you attempt to over exert yourself."

He didn't say anything, but then again she didn't expect him to. "I'm going to change your bandages while you drink. Is that alright?"

He nodded slightly, sipping more ginger tea. His breathing was deepening, she noticed after unwrapping a few of the bandages. Meditation, much like sleep, would afford her some more of his memories and skills. She melded their minds while she worked silently, smoothing salve over his closing cuts and deep purple bruises. Even while in his mind, her palms could feel the rugged, raised scars of rough battles on his shoulders, biceps and back. _Focus Okiku, _she scolded herself, deftly massaging at his bruises and aching muscles…

_There she was; young Otsuru with that damned teddy bear upside down. He smiled and shook his head as he turned it right side up. Her wide eyes smiled up at him and hugged his waist before running off after Gino and the rest as they started their mornings. Afro was older now, and could go off on his own. He walked along the cliff, thinking of his father Rokutaru, and his mother who he could barely remember at that point. _

"_Afro, what'cha doing?"_

_He felt himself smile before he turned to see young Otsuru, bear upside down once again, "Nothing, just thinking."_

"_About your dad?"_

_He nodded, looking off into the distance._

"…_well at least you've got us, right?"_

_He patted her on the head as he breezed past, his mind on his mission…_

She felt the tears on her cheek and wiped them quickly, instead tugging tighter on her final bandage. "Supper will be ready shortly, Mighty Samurai. Rest until then."

She didn't want to do it anymore, that much she was certain of. But The Empty Se7en…she owed them her life. After Sword Master died, they swept her up, cleaned her up and taught her what ninja skills she had. They also gave her to Brother 3 as a "gift" of sorts, but he soon tired of her, and she was tired of him from the beginning. Instead, they began to train her from something more, something better.

_This is not better,_ she bitterly thought, cutting the heads off the fish for the night with loud, angry thuds. _I have to do this. I have to. Then I'll be free to do…_her thoughts always faltered there. To do what? After betraying the one man left in the world that she loved, what else would she want to do? She set the knife down, instead placing her hand on her forehead as his memories blurred with her own. _You have to do this 'kiku. You have to…_

"Everything alright?"

His voice startled her, "I-I'm…yes, everything is fine. You should be resting, Mighty Samurai."

His eyes bored into her as he approached her. Standing next to her, he took the knife and began deboning the fish in silence. She wanted terribly to touch him, to just feel his warmth and strength under her hands. Instead she smiled, and began making the rice and peas. She hadn't had much company the last few months here in the mountains, but his presence, however silent, was welcome.

"Will you rest now, Mighty Samurai?" she asked quietly after he'd finished his task.

He nodded, backing away from the counter. She turned to watch him go, but he stopped at the awning. "What is your name?"

Her heart pounded. _Otsuru. Otsuru…_"I am called Okiku."

"Okiku."

Before she could respond, he closed the door and started towards his room.

_

* * *

_

Day Seven

"Master Samurai?"

He was nowhere in the house, that she could sense. But where would he go? She turned a quick corner only to see him standing there. She jumped back a bit, startled by his sudden presence. He'd healed incredibly; most of his bandages were removed by his own hand of course, and his nose had set nicely. His hand remained bandaged, but he held his sword in its damaged grip.

"Yes?"

Her shoulders relaxed, "Your supper is ready."

He nodded and breezed past her, his fingertips grazing the inside of her forearm. Her back stiffened and moisture pooled in a central place. _Damnit Afro…_ Falling in love with him again was not part of the plan, but in her mind now it seemed inevitable. The more she stood in his presence, the more she wanted to stand by his side. Most of his memories were siphoned and held on the data chip of her cell phone for Brother 1, but…she didn't want to do it anymore. How could she betray him?

Later that night during her shower, Brother 1 decided to check up on her. She disliked him most of all. Brothers 2 and 3 were indifferent, Brothers 4 and 5 were brutal and hateful, Brother 6 was just a waste of his title, and Brother 7…Brother 7 was a deviant scientist whom she'd never seen.

"Yes…yes…no…I haven't acquired that data yet…"

The sooner she could be done with him the better. Being with The Empty Se7en used to fill her with pride and power but…

She felt his eyes on her and immediately dropped the phone behind her back, turning her naked front towards him. She could feel him before she could see him, the clouds in front of the moon making it impossible to be sure he was there at all. She smiled once she saw him, giving him a soft wave.

"Sorry."

…but now she was somewhere between guilt and disgust at her place in their scheme. "If you back out now, disciple Okiku, all ties with you shall be cut, and we shall take back what we gave to you. Keep that in mind as you watch over The Number Two Samurai."

_And fear,_ she thought to herself as chills took hold of her body, _mustn't forget that healthy, real fear._

_

* * *

_

Day Nine

"Look at how beautiful they are," she gushed, her eyes filling with lights in the night sky. "This is my favorite time of the year."

She could sense his smile. "May I ask where you're going, Mighty Samurai?"

"East," he replied simply, pointing north.

She laughed and directed his hand the right way, "East."

She felt his pulse through his wrist, strong and sturdy, his skin warm and soft under her hand. The sky filled with yellows and oranges, "Oh, I love those kind, those are my favorite…"

_God, he's so…deep…so…good…_His rough, calloused hands caressed and teased, stroked and pinched her in such a tantalizing way. She was lost under him as he surged, his rhythm slow and steady. His lips, warm and soft kissed and nibbled at her neck and chest as her porcelain legs wrapped around his waist.

Pulling her up and to his chest, he coursed on, fulfilling her. While lost on the haze that was his lovemaking, she remembered briefly her mission. Her wrists tingled, signaling her hands to move quickly, and still he raged inside her. Her shaky hand slipped the blade from her hair comb, until…his fingertips graced the slender scar along her back, his strong, slick tongue sliding along her neck and cheek. Orgasmic love broke her bonds then as she tossed the comb aside. She could never betray him, never again.

Staring down at the phone, she remembered. She weighed her life and the possibilities with Afro versus a life with the Clan. Rage filled her as she realized even if she completed the mission, they'd find no more use for her other than this; she'd always be the Empty Se7en dream whore. With a definite grunt, she plunged her dagger into the cell phone, sobbing. She tucked the small memory chip between her fingers. _Goodbye Okiku and screw you, Empty Se7en._

Her spine stiffened as she turned to see him lording over her. Tears flowed easily now as she realized what she was going to do to this man, the boy she loved so long ago. She told him everything, gasping for breath between her sobs. His eyes showed disappointment, yet understanding. He suddenly unsheathed his sword and plunged it into the wall behind him.

"Get out of my way…Otsuru."

The rest was a blur, but she knew where her loyalties would lie; with Lord Afro. They seemed to be coming from all sides, the warriors of the Empty Se7en, but they worked fast together, making easy work of them.

"Otsuru!"

His call filled her heart with love and joy. She smiled as she turned to him before a sword from above pierced through her chest. The pain was like a fire through her body, and the sight of it nearly caused her to faint; she knew better. If she fainted she'd die quicker. She had to tell him…she had to say…

His eyes said it all, though. She didn't have the breath. She didn't have the blood. She didn't have the strength to tell him she was sorry. To tell him that she loved him. But his eyes, those sad, sweet eyes…he understood. _He understands…_she thought faintly, giving into the darkness that was surrounding her. _He understands…_


End file.
